True Love's First Kiss
by Princess of the Jedi
Summary: AU 6th year. Draught of Sleeping Beauty: Causes a victim to be put under its curse of eternal sleep until awoken by true love’s first kiss. So, who is Harry Potter’s true love?
1. The Ambush

**Title:** True Love's First Kiss

**Rating:** PG-13

**Paring:** RW/HP (Slash)

**Spoilers:** PS/SS, CoS, PoA, GoF, OotP

**Summary:** _AU 6th year. Draught of Sleeping Beauty: Causes a victim to be put under its curse of eternal sleep until awoken by true love's first kiss. So, who is Harry Potter's true love?_

A/N: Welcome to my first fanfiction, everyone. I know, my first piece and it's slash. Well, don't get too comfy—the only slash I'll write or even read is Ron/Harry (because they seem so perfect together!). This is sorta of taken from the idea of Sleeping Beauty—but where Harry is under the enchanted sleep and Ron is the dashing knight who saves the damsel. Hope you enjoy!

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Chapter One: The Ambush

Harry James Potter, a sixth year Gryffindor at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, the Boy Who Lived, star Seeker on the Gryffindor Quidditch team (also its captain), was not having a good year. It was only the beginning of October and he was already behind. Sure, he'd received eight O.W.L.s (Ordinary Wizarding Levels)—including one in Potions—but it was through luck and cramming, not actual skill. At least according to Harry.

Hermione Granger, one of Harry's best friends, had received twelve O.W.L.s (to no one's surprise) and had already begun studying for N.E.W.T.s (Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Tests), which they weren't due to take until near the end of their seventh year. But everyone knew better than to tell Hermione that.

Meanwhile, Ron Weasley, Harry's other best friend, had received eight O.W.L.s as well. (To the delight and disappointment of his mother, Molly Weasley; she was glad he did better than Fred and George, his twin brothers who were older by two years, but didn't get as many as Bill, Ron's eldest brother. Percy was still a sore spot with the whole Weasley family.) Ron had even gone into N.E.W.T. Potions alongside Harry and Hermione (much to the disgust of the professor, Severus Snape). But while Harry was feeling like a failure, Ron was completely taking his classes in stride, still waiting until the last moment to do his homework—much to the dismay of Hermione.

In Transfiguration, Professor McGonagall, a strict woman who was also head of Gryffindor House) was unrelenting to the sixth years. She was currently teaching Harry and his classmates how to transfigure their partners into various animals depending on the person's size.

Hermione, Harry's partner, wasn't very helpful. She kept trying to correct him whenever he attempted to turn her into a rabbit. After classes she would then drag Harry off to the library to look up the theory of the spell (much like they had in their fourth year during the Triwizard Tournament with the Summoning Charm).

Ron wasn't doing that well with the spell, either (his partner was Neville Longbottom, who actually turned out to be a decent wizard after getting a new wand from Ollivanders), but he'd adamantly refused to study the spell in the library with his two friends; instead, choosing to improve his keeping skills with Dean Thomas (their roommate and one of the new Chasers, alongside Ginny Weasley, Ron's little sister by one year). He was actually exhibiting some confidence and skill almost on par with Oliver Wood (the team's previous Keeper), much to Harry's delight.

Meanwhile, in Potions, Snape was angry that Harry and Ron had somehow gotten into his Advanced Potions class and was constantly attacking them verbally during class—which delighted Draco Malfoy (who hated Harry and played Seeker on the Slytherin team) to no end. (The blond was Snape's favorite and one of the top students in Potions.)

In Charms, Professor Flitwick was instructing them to perform the Bubble Head Charm, the same charm that Harry had seen put to use in the second task of the Triwizard Tournament that had taken place two years ago.

Professor Sprout was showing them how to care for some particularly nasty plants in Herbology and was giving them essays by the bucketload. (Actually, all of the teachers were giving the sixth year students plenty of essays.)

But today, things would change for Harry and his two best friends.

After another night filled with nightmares for Harry, he was the first in his dorm to wake up and get the first shower. By the time he came back, Neville, Dean, and Seamus were waking up. (Ron was still out cold.) Harry finished drying off and went to go wake his best mate.

The Boy Who Lived pulled back the velvet curtains surrounding the red haired boy's four-poster and stole a look at him (since the other three boys had already left for breakfast in the Great Hall). Ron was sprawled on his back, his bed sheets tangled among his legs, his chest exposed (for he wasn't wearing a pajama top), his mouth wide open with just a hint of drool making its way down his chin.

Harry sighed. _Ron looks so adorable,_ he thought dreamily. He then just realized what he said in his head.

_Stop it, Potter!_ he told himself. _Ron is just your friend. Just. Your. Friend! He won't feel that way for you because he's bloody in love with Hermione._

And there in lied the root of Harry's problems (besides Voldemort). Over the summer, Harry had begun to experience feelings that definitely weren't brotherly towards Ron. They had only increased when he spent the rest of the summer with Ron and his family at the Burrow. When Hogwarts began, Harry found himself daydreaming in class of Ron's lips, his hair, his freckles, his voice_…_

Obviously Ron had no idea how Harry felt because he still treated the black-haired boy the same way as he had in the past. He still challenged Harry to wizard's chess (of which Harry still couldn't win), talked Quidditch stats and that the Chudley Cannons were going to win this year, help Harry to make up his Divination homework for Professor Trelawney, complain about Snape and Malfoy etc.

Not to mention Ron fancied Hermione. Harry was many things, but he wasn't stupid. He saw how Ron had acted when their female best friend went to the Yule Ball with Victor Krum—he acted like a jealous lover. They bickered like mad, as if there were sexual tension between them. As much as Harry knew he himself felt for Ron, he knew he didn't have a chance with the youngest Weasley male.

The sixth year Gryffindor brought himself back to the present by his stomach, which was reminding him that he hadn't eaten yet. He started shaking Ron's shoulder. "Ron_…_ Ron, get up."

Immediately the red-haired sixteen year old opened his eyes. (Harry resisted the urge to just star blatantly into Ron's crystal blue eyes.) Ron slowly sat up and looked around the room before setting his gaze on Harry, saying, "Where's everyone else?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "In the Great Hall, you git. Come on, we have Transfiguration first today."

"Bloody hell!" Ron cursed as he jumped up to get dressed in his school robes. "I still have five inches left on that essay on animagi for McGonagall!" He was now running around the room, trying to find his red and gold tie.

"Try under your bed, mate," Harry suggested, who then had to stifle his laughter at the look on his best friend's face as he came out from under the bed, the tie clenched in his fist.

"Thanks, Harry," Ron said gratefully as he began to put it around his collar. "I don't know how you do it."

Harry had to work very hard not to turn the exact shade of Ron's hair. Fortunately Ron didn't notice, as he was grabbing his schoolbag.

The two boys left Gryffindor Tower and headed to the Great Hall to grab some breakfast. There they met Hermione, who was already finished with her meal and had her head buried in a heavy book.

"Morning," she said before returning to her reading.

Harry returned the greeting and began putting scrambled eggs and sausages on his plate and pouring some pumpkin juice into his goblet.

"Hermione," Ron said suddenly, "can I see your Transfiguration essay?"

Hermione didn't look up. "You've had ages to do it."

"Please? I only need five inches."

"No, Ron. You had plenty of time to get it done. It's not my fault if you decided to waste your time by playing chess or playing Quidditch." Hermione rolled her eyes.

Ron was beginning to look mad. "Quidditch is important! We have to keep the cup with Gryffindor! Not everyone's obsessed with studying like you, Hermione."

_Oh, here we go again._ Harry groaned mentally.

Hermione slammed her book shut. "Well, it wouldn't hurt you to do your own homework and try to copy someone else's, you know. N.E.W.T.s are next year and we all need to buckled down on our studies—especially you, Ron. You have some of the worst marks ever and very poor studying habits!" she snapped.

"Oh yeah?" Ron retaliated. "Well, I obviously had good enough marks to get into my current classes! Besides, N.E.W.T.s aren't well until the end of next year—you're just a workaholic, Hermione!"

The two continued to argue the rest of breakfast and all the way to Transfiguration about anything and everything; but luckily enough, they had to sit next to their partners—and Neville was on the other side of the room.

When Professor McGonagall came around to collect their essays, Ron could be heard grumbling about "haughty know-it-all who can't be bothered to help a bloke out," which McGonagall promptly took ten points off Gryffindor for.

The Deputy Headmistress then had the students try again to transfigure their partner. Harry did better this time and managed to turn Hermione into a brown rabbit, but with bushy fur. Hermione, of course, turned Harry into a perfect replica of a deer. Ron had seen this and muttered, "Show off," under his breath so he couldn't lose any more points for Gryffindor.

After Transfiguration, the sixth year Gryffindors went outside on the grounds to Hagrid's hut for Advanced Care of Magical Creatures, which they still shared with the sixth year Slytherins. Today they were studying phoenixes (for Hagrid was allowed to borrow Fawkes from Professor Dumbledore). The firebird immediately went to Harry's shoulder, trilling a few notes, making both Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil squeal then coo at the sight of the phoenix and Harry. (Said boy turned pink with embarrassment.)

The only thing that was off during the lesson (which was very good, seeing as no one was sent to the hospital wing or was scared out of their wits) was Malfoy. The blond haired prefect kept glancing at the Boy Who Lived, his expression unreadable.

It made Harry feel a little uneasy, but he managed to brush it off by the time class was over, where he walked between Ron and Hermione (who were just speaking when absolutely necessary). But by the time lunch rolled around, they were acting normal with each other again. Once again Harry's two best friends acted as if they hadn't bickered in the first place.

All in all, it was a normal day (unless you counted Neville losing Trevor again and turning the Gryffindor common room upside down, looking for his toad and finding him by the fireplace—which afterwards, Hermione fixed the red and gold room with a household cleaning charm). After dinner, Harry, Ron, and Hermione sat at their usual spot in the common room and began their homework. (Correction: Hermione was doing her homework; Harry was reading the spell book that he'd borrowed from the library to understand the theory behind the spell they were doing in Transfiguration—he believed that reading the theory was actually helping; Ron was polishing his Cleansweep Eleven, glancing at Harry every so often with a concerned look on his face.)

After a full hour of this, Ron had had enough. "Why are you still reading that, Harry?" he asked. "You already performed the spell."

Harry sighed, feeling irritated. "I still didn't get it all the way right."

"That didn't use to bother you before," Ron pointed out, puzzlement lining his face.

"Well, I need top marks to become an Auror. Excuse me if I want to follow through with that!" Harry snapped. He'd already felt on edge today from many things: his nightmares, Malfoy, not being able to do the spell perfectly, his feeling for his best friend whom he was taking his frustration on_…_

Ron began biting his lip and said, "I didn't mean it like that, mate. I just meant that you're changing. You wouldn't have done this last year or the years before."

Harry shut his book loudly. "That's what happens when people grow up, Ron!" he said angrily, having enough. He stood up and exited the common room through the Fat Lady's portrait. He didn't see Hermione finally look up from her homework, or see the worried/shocked look on Ron's face, or the concerned looks on the other Gryffindors' faces. In fact, Harry was so angry that he forgot to bring his wand with him—which was very unusual since he constantly had it at his side.

Harry was so angry that he didn't even know where he was going. All the green-eyed teenager knew was that he needed to get away from Ron. He passed other people but didn't see their faces, didn't hear their voices.

When Harry finally stopped, he looked around to see where he was. The walls were a dark gray with a few poorly lit torches—and very damp. It was also very cold. It was the dungeons near the Slytherin common room (from what Harry remembered when Ron and he had impersonated—with the help of some Polyjuice Potion that Hermione had brewed—Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle, Malfoy's lackeys, to interrogate Malfoy himself in their second year).

Harry just realized that he was in Slytherin territory and didn't have his wand with him. _Better get out of here…_

But his thoughts were interrupted by a noise behind him. Harry turned around, but no one was there. "I'm starting to act like Moody," Harry told himself. "There's no one else here."

"How wrong you are, Potter," said a drawling voice from behind him.

The sixth year Gryffindor jerked around and saw Draco Malfoy leaning against the dungeon wall, his arms crossed over his chest.

"Malfoy," Harry stated.

The blond-haired Slytherin smirked. "Hmm. What are you doing down here, Potter? You know this is Slytherin territory. Shouldn't you be in Gryffindor Tower like a good little golden boy?"

"Look," Harry said as calmly as he could, "I didn't mean to end up here, so I'll just—"

Malfoy snapped his fingers and someone grabbed the Boy Who Lived from behind. Harry tried to escape but the hands were too strong.

"What's going on?" Harry demanded, trying to keep his voice steady.

BAM! Malfoy had swiftly strode over and hit him in the jaw. "No talking," he said. "I had expected to have to sneak around and get you sometime, but who knew you'd come willingly into a trap? This will be so satisfying."

"What are you talking about?" Harry interrupted.

Malfoy hit him again on the jaw. (Harry was sure it was bruised by now.) "What did I say about talking?"

Harry stayed silent.

"Good." Then the pureblooded boy's eyes hardened. "Thanks to you and your stupid groupies, Potter, my father's now rotting in a cell in Azkaban."

"That's not me and my friends' fault! It's your dad's own stupid fault for joining Voldemort and getting caught at the Ministry!" Harry protested before he could stop himself.

Malfoy then punched Harry in the stomach, making Harry wheeze. "Shut up!" he snarled. The blond then pulled something out of his robe pocket; though Harry couldn't get a good look at what the object was, he had a sneaking suspicion that Malfoy was going to use it on him.

The sixteen-year-old Slytherin noticed where Harry's gaze was at and opened his hand to show him and grinned.

Harry's eyes widened at what it was: It was a needle filled with a light blue liquid—a poison, more likely. Malfoy's smirk only grew bigger at the black-haired boy's reaction.

"This is the instrument of you destruction, Potter," he said, his eyes lighting up malevolently. "For so long you've been Dumbledore's golden boy, being loved by everyone, escaping the Dark Lord five times. Well, your luck's just run out. My father's imprisonment will be avenged!" He began walking towards the captive Boy Who Lived, the needle clutched in his pale hand.

Harry began squirming to try and escape, but his captor's arms just tightened that much more.

Malfoy had just reached him and plunged the needle into the base of Harry's neck inserting the blue substance into the sixth year's blood stream. When all of the liquid had gone into Harry's body, the blond jerked the needle out and nodded to the person holding the wizarding world's savior. "Let go of him, Crabbe."

Vincent Crabbe did as his boss commanded and removed his arms from around Harry.

As he and Malfoy left, the blond aristocrat called out, "Don't worry, Potter! You'll be with your mutt godfather soon!" And he and Crabbe cackled as they turned the corner.

The world was looking blurry to Harry (even though he still had his glasses on) and he started to feel dizzy as the injected substance began to take affect.

_Ron…_ was the last thing Harry thought as he fell to the floor, succumbing to the darkness.

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A/N: Well, how was that for a first chapter? As I've said before, this is my first fanfiction (of many to be written, of course—just not all slash; probably most of it will be het, because what most of the couples I like are that). So, could you guys be kind and please review? I accept praise and criticism as well—just don't flame me!

-Princess


	2. Three Minus One Equals Two

**Title:** True Love's First Kiss

**Rating:** PG-13

**Paring:** RW/HP (Slash)

**Spoilers:** PS/SS, CoS, PoA, GoF, OotP

**Summary:** _AU 6th year. Draught of Sleeping Beauty: Causes a victim to be put under its curse of eternal sleep until awoken by true love's first kiss. So, who is Harry Potter's true love?_

A/N: Okay, second chapter, where Ron and Hermione find Harry after Malfoy and Crabbe leave. Enjoy!

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Chapter Two: Three Minus One Equals Two 

Ron Weasley was feeling like a right prat. He didn't mean to say what he did to Harry earlier—sometimes his brain and mouth weren't on the same wavelength. When Harry left, Hermione gave the red-haired boy a look that said, 'Now you've done it!', dipped her quill into her inkpot and began writing again.

Ron said to his bushy-haired friend, "You're not going after Harry?"

Hermione looked up at him again. "Harry just needs time to cool down a bit. He'll be back soon."

Ron sighed. _There went my big trap. Great going, Weasley._ He then returned to polishing his broom, but with less enthusiasm this time. _When Harry comes back, I'm actually going to do something smart and apologize to him. I shouldn't have said what I said. Harry's been sensitive especially since last year._

But Harry didn't come back during those three hours (and it was half an hour until curfew), and that began to worry Ron, despite Hermione's assurances that their green-eyed friend was okay. Finally, Ron went up to the sixth year boys' dorm, and dug through Harry's trunk until he found a piece of old parchment—the Marauder's Map—and his wand.

The sixth year prefect marched down the stairs into the common room and plopped down next to Hermione, who looked up and saw the parchment and wand in Ron's hands.

"Ron," she hissed so that the other Gryffindors couldn't hear them, "what do you thing you're doing?"

"What do you think, Hermione?" he whispered back as though it were obvious. The youngest Weasley male then pointed his wand at the secret map and said quietly, "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."

Immediately ink spread out on the parchment, twisting itself into the map of Hogwarts. Ron and Hermione (reluctantly on the Muggle-born girl's part) began searching the map to find where Harry was.

"There!" Hermione said so that only Ron could hear her. "There he is! Right there!" She pointed at a spot on the map.

The red haired sixteen-year-old looked at where his female best friend was pointing. There, in the dungeons leading to the Slytherin common room (_Of all places!_ Ron thought) was the dot 'Harry Potter,' unmoving.

"Mischief Managed," Ron whispered, and the map went blank. He immediately stood up and strode towards the back of the Fat Lady's portrait that covered the entrance to the common room.

"Ron! Where do you think you're going?" Hermione called out.

"To get my best mate," Ron answered simply.

"Well, at least wait up for me!" Hermione huffed, following him out of the common room.

As it was still not close to curfew, Ron and Hermione were allowed to walk through the castle freely without having to worry about being caught by the professors, Filch, or his cat, Mrs. Norris. The two sixth years quickly made their way to the Slytherin dungeons, working their way to the corridor where their best friend was. When they got there, they were shocked by what they saw.

Harry lay facedown, unmoving, with his robes rumpled and his hair messed up even more than usual.

"What on earth happened to him?" Hermione gasped after a minute. She then went over to the black-haired boy and turned him over.

The sighted that awaited her was even worse that the first one. There was a bump on Harry's forehead, his glasses were cracked, and a bruise was forming at his jaw. What was even more unusual about this sight was the expression on the Boy Who Lived's face. His eyes were closed and he looked peaceful, despite the injuries to his face. It was then that Hermione realized that Harry's chest was moving, his breathing quiet and slow, even and regular.

"He's_…_ asleep?" the bushy-haired prefect asked aloud. She then pulled out her wand, pointed it at her sleeping best friend, and said, "_Ennervate_."

The spell was ineffective. Harry remained asleep, showing no signs of consciousness.

Now Hermione became even more worried. The reviving charm could wake any sleeping or stunned person, but it hadn't worked on Harry. The studious girl knew she hadn't done it wrong (for she had practiced and perfected the spell the previous year), but she did wonder why it hadn't worked.

Hermione decided the best course of action was to take Harry to the hospital wing to Madam Pompfrey. The stern woman would most likely know what to do.

"Ron," she said, breaking the silence, "we need to get Harry to the hospital wing."

The red headed boy didn't move, staring at Harry.

"Ron! I can't carry him there—he's too heavy for me. Get over here and pick him up!" Hermione said exasperatingly.

"Why can't you just use a spell to move him?" Ron spoke for the first time.

"Because 'mobilicorpus' isn't all that accurate to move Harry," Hermione answered patiently.

Ron nodded, went over to Harry (as slowly as possible, Hermione noted), and picked the sleeping boy up with a gentleness Hermione didn't know her usually short tempered friend possessed.

The expression on Ron's face was unlike any other she had seen. It was devastation.

The youngest Weasley male shifted Harry so that his head lay on Ron's shoulder and that Ron's arms were underneath the back of Harry's knees and the middle of his back.

The two teens set off towards the hospital wing, grateful that they didn't run into any other students on the way there. Neither Ron nor Hermione spoke, both lost in their own thoughts.

Finally they reached the white walled hospital wing. Ron lay Harry on one of the beds while Hermione went into the adjacent room to get Madam Pompfrey. A minute later the two females entered and went straight to the bed where Harry was laying.

"What has Mr. Potter done this time?" the school Healer asked crisply.

"We don't know. We just found him like this in the dungeons," Hermione answered. "The reviving charm didn't work on him, either."

Madam Pompfrey frowned. "Hmm." She then began casting various spells on the sleeping Harry Potter, her frown getting deeper with every spell performed. Finally she stopped, going over to a cupbard and getting out a needle and two vials of potions (one yellow, the other brown). Pompfrey filled the needle with the yellow potion and injected it into Harry's right arm. She repeated the same process with the brown potion.

"The yellow potion will reduce the swelling on Mr. Potter's forehead," Madam Pompfrey explained to Ron and Hermione. "The brown potion will eliminate the bruise on his jaw."

Then she turned to the two teenagers. "Will you two please retrieve Headmaster Dumbledore? The password is lollypops."

Ron and Hermione did as the strict woman asked and walked up and down the halls and corridors to the gargoyle, told it the password, and went up the stairs into Dumbledore's office. They found that Dumbledore was already awake and quickly told him that Madam Pompfrey wanted to see him about Harry and that the Healer would explain the rest to him. The blue-eyed man stood up and followed the two friends back to the hospital wing.

Once there, Madam Pompfrey tried to shoo Ron and Hermione back to Gryffindor Tower, but they refused to leave.

"We aren't going anywhere!" Ron argued. "We deserve to know what's going on with Harry!"

"Let them stay, Poppy. Harry means quite a bit to the both of the," Dumbledore said before Madam Pompfrey could protest.

"Oh, all right," the school Healer gave in. She took a deep breath. "Other than his two injuries, there is nothing physically wrong with Mr. Potter. He wasn't knocked out; but there is something foreign running through his bloodstream, but I can't identify it. In fact, I've never seen a situation like this before. The closest thing I can compare his condition to is a coma."

Dumbledore began to look graver than he had upon entering the ward. Hermione gasped. Ron was confused. On their way back to Gryffindor Tower (as it was after curfew and they weren't allowed to stay with Harry, despite their protesting) Ron asked, "Hermione, what's a coma?"

His bushy haired friend turned to him, unshed tears in her eyes. "It's a term for the state between life and death. The longer someone's in one, the less likely they are to wake up. Sometimes the person never wakes up."

Ron's eyes widened, then narrowed. "That's not going to happen to Harry," he said determinedly.

888888

When the red haired sixteen year old had first seen Harry facedown on the floor in the dungeons, he had stopped breathing. He tried to deny that it was Harry. But when Hermione turned him over, Ron knew it was no use lying to himself—especially when he saw the round glasses and the lightning bolt scar. He was so rattled that he didn't notice Hermione's actions. Suddenly, his female friend's voice caught his attention.

"_…_Harry to the hospital wing."

_The hospital wing? It can't be that bad… can it?_ Ron had thought.

Once again Hermione was trying to get his attention. "Ron! I can't carry him there—he's too heavy for me. Get over here and pick him up!"

"Why can't you just use a spell to move him?" _'Cause I don't want to touch him—it'll make all this real and not a dream._

"Because 'mobilicorpus' isn't all that accurate to move Harry," Hermione answered with a tone quite different from her expression.

Ron nodded his head and walked as slowly as he could towards where Harry was. As carefully as he could, Ron picked up his sleeping best mate, putting his right arm under Harry's back and his left one under the back of Harry's knees. Harry's head rested on Ron's right shoulder.

When they arrived at the hospital wing, Ron had placed Harry on one of the beds and Hermione had gone to get Madam Pompfrey.

Ron had watched carefully as the stern Healer tried to assess what had happed to his best mate and administered two potions to heal the damage done to Harry's face.

Ron hadn't wanted to leave the black-haired boy's side but when Madam Pompfrey ordered he and Hermione to get Professor Dumbledore, he had no choice but to comply. The two teens had quickly found the headmaster and informed him of the situation, bringing him back to the hospital wing. There, Madam Pompfrey told them that there was really nothing wrong with Harry; he just was in something called a coma.

Ron had no clue what that meant, but assumed that it wasn't good—judging by the way Hermione and Professor Dumbledore had reacted. So the sixth year prefect decided to ask his Muggle-born friend about it on their way back to Gryffindor Tower (because Madam Pompfrey wouldn't let them stay with Harry). With tears about to leak out of her eyes, Hermione told Ron what a coma was.

Ron was shocked, to say the very least. "That's not going to happen to Harry," he said stubbornly. _It can't,_ he said to himself silently. _Harry wouldn't do that to me._

Hermione didn't answer because she was saying the password ("Umbridge is a toad") to the Fat Lady to get both of them into the common room.

Once inside, Ginny came up to the two friends and immediately began interrogating Hermione.

"Where's Harry? Why isn't he with you?" Ron's little sister asked.

In a quiet tone Hermione told the fifth year about Harry's condition. After hearing the news, the fifteen year old also had tears in her eyes.

Meanwhile, Ron went up to the sixth year boys' dorm, not noticing anything else—not Hermione and Ginny's concerned expressions as he left the common room, and ignoring Dean, Neville, and Seamus when they asked if he was alright. (When they didn't get an answer from their red-haired friend, they asked Hermione what was going on and became worried with her answer.)

No. Ron was focused on the images of his best friend lying facedown in the dungeons and later on lying on the bed in the hospital wing. Harry looked so small, so_…_ fragile—nothing like what the Boy Who Lived looked like normally. His Harry always had an expression on his face—happiness, sadness, anger, annoyance—and his eyes always mirrored them. Except lately, he was looking serious most of the time and didn't smile as much as usual.

_Which is a pity,_ Ron said to himself. _Harry's got a beautiful smile._

Hold your hippogriffs! Ron snapped his eyes open. _I did not think that! I did not think that _Harry_ has a beautiful smile. Na-uh! No! Absolutely not!_ Ron shook his head hard.

_Yes you did, Ronnie,_ said a voice in his head that sounded exactly like Ginny. _You said that Harry, your best mate, has a beautiful smile._

_Great. Now my brain's starting to sound like Ginny._ Ron groaned. _I think I've finally gone loony like Luna Lovegood. And no, I DO NOT think that my best mate's smile is beautiful._

Now he heard the voice giggling. _You keep telling yourself that._

Ron shook his head again. "I better get some sleep," he said out loud, burying himself under his red blankets, not caring that he was still fully clothed.

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A/N: Hopefully, I didn't make Ron or Hermione OOC—that's not my intent (but if I did, it's all for the story). I'll try and keep the updates constant—once a week. But I can't promise that it'll happen like that. I'm very busy, what with school (and taking some more advanced classes) and other stuff. Please review! (Once again, please no flames!) 

-Princess


	3. I Don't Fancy My Best Mate!

**Title:** True Love's First Kiss

**Rating:** PG-13

**Paring:** RW/HP (Slash)

**Spoilers:** PS/SS, CoS, PoA, GoF, OotP

**Summary:** _AU 6th year. Draught of Sleeping Beauty: Causes a victim to be put under its curse of eternal sleep until awoken by true love's first kiss. So, who is Harry Potter's true love?_

A/N: In this chapter, Ron gets more confused about his feelings towards Harry, a Quidditch game is played, and Cho's a horrible person. (When does someone _not_ write her as a bitch?)

A/N #2: I'm apologizing early for any and all mistakes I make about the Quidditch game. I've never been good at commentating on sports events.

A/N #3: I am so sorry that it has taken me this long to update! I've been busy with tests, quizzes, and complicated homework assignments. Well, I'm back and with a new chapter!

* * *

Chapter Three: I Don't Fancy My Best Mate!

For the next few weeks Harry's condition remained unchanged. Professor McGonagall made Ron temporary captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team in light of the incident. Hermione was given a pass to read in the Restricted Section of the library so she could help Madam Pompfrey figure out what potion was affecting the Boy Who Lived.

Meanwhile Ron was a shell of what he used to be. When he wasn't attending classes, holding Quidditch practice, sleeping (not well—he kept dreaming of running across his unconscious best friend in the dungeons), or barely eating in the Great Hall, you could find him sitting next to the prone form of Harry Potter in the hospital wing.

The red-haired sixteen-year-old wizard had stopped playing wizard's chess and Exploding Snap with anyone; he stopped turning in assignments; he didn't even pay attention in class, seemingly lost in thought.

While most of the teachers and students (including Professor McGonagall and Hermione) were understanding of Ron's behavior, some were not—namely Snape and the Slytherins. The Slytherins would jeer and poke fun at the Gryffindor prefect, but soon found it boring because of the lack of response from the normally short-tempered sixth year. Snape just became more incensed at him in Potions (since he didn't have Harry to harp on) and even threw the youngest Weasley male out of the class a few times. It took the authority of Professor Dumbledore to keep the greasy-haired head of Slytherin House from permanently removing the melancholy student from Advanced Potions.

Ron wasn't Harry's only visitor, though. Neville, Seamus, the whole Gryffindor Quidditch team, and Hermione checked on the unconscious patient as well. Even Mrs. Weasley left the Burrow to see her 'seventh' son. But no one was there every day like Ron was.

Days turned into weeks and soon enough it was already November and time for the first Quidditch game of the season: Gryffindor versus Ravenclaw.

The Gryffindor team was ready. They had switched Ginny to Seeker in Harry's absence, and had put Dennis Creevy (who had made Reserve Chaser) to work with Katie Bell and Dean. Ron had made them practice even more than Harry had (instead of three times a week—five), but the team hadn't minded.

After eating a light breakfast in the Great Hall, the team went down to the locker room and put on their Quidditch gear. Before heading out, Ron gathered the team around him and said, "Okay, everyone. I know, Harry should be the one giving this speech—not me. But we don't have a choice. Everyone out there's thinking that we're going to be pushovers because we don't have Harry leading us. Today, I want us to go out there and prove them wrong! For Harry's sake, at least."

"For Harry!" Ginny cheered.

"For Harry!" the rest of the team echoed enthusiastically.

Ron nodded his head. "Harry wouldn't want us to fall apart and lose just because he's not here." The temporary captain's eyes took on a determined gleam. "Now, let's go out there and kick Ravenclaw's butt!"

The rest of the team whooped.

They then heard Neville on the magical loudspeaker, beginning his commentary on the game that was about to take place. (Harry and Hermione had encouraged the shy boy to get out of his shell by doing something no one would ever expect him to do.) The seven Gryffindors went flew on their brooms onto the field.

"And here comes the Gryffindor team with Weasley, Weasley, Thomas, Bell, Creevy, Sloper and Kirke—last year's champions! Since Harry Potter is temporarily out of commission, Keeper Ron Weasley has taken over the captainship and Ginny Weasley has become Seeker once again. Meanwhile, Dennis Creevy has taken up Ginny's spot as Chaser."

Madam Hooch then came out onto the Quidditch field, holding the Quaffle. "Captains, shake hands!" she ordered.

Ron flew down to the middle of the field and saw that Cho Chang, Harry's ex-girlfriend (if you could even call her that), was already there.

As they shook hands, Cho said, "You know, I was looking forward to facing off against Harry again. Things ended so badly the last time we saw each other."

That got Ron's blood boiling. _How dare she talk like Harry would still be interested in her!_ Harry told him that he didn't like her anymore this summer. The two captains ended the handshake, mounted their brooms, and flew to their posts.

Madam Hooch blew the whistle and threw the Quaffle up. Immediately, Dean caught the red ball and flew down towards the Ravenclaw end with it. When a Ravenclaw Chaser flew straight at him, the black boy tossed the Quaffle to Dennis, who happened to be nearby. The younger boy immediately sped past another Chaser and dodged a Bludger directed at him and threw it towards the far right Ravenclaw hoop. The Keeper tried to catch it, but failed, and the Quaffle went through the hoop.

"Gryffindor's in the lead 10 to 0!" Neville yelled.

Ron smirked. _Take that, Chang._

Soon enough the Ravenclaws got control over the Quaffle and went towards where Ron was. Said boy gritted his teeth. He was not going to fail his team.

The Ravenclaw Chaser threw the Quaffle to the middle hoop, but Ron immediately sped there and caught the red ball. He then tossed it to Katie and went back to watching the game, keeping an eye on Ginny for when she had to get the Snitch. So far, his little sister had been circling the pitch slowly, looking around for the golden winged ball. Cho was just stationary on the broom, deciding to look for any signs of the 150-point ball from where she was.

It was forty more minutes before both girls spotted the Snitch. (The score was currently 40-30 in Ravenclaw's favor.) They immediately took off to grab the flying ball.

"Go Ginny!" Ron screamed. "Kick Chang's ass!"

But he couldn't focus on his sister anymore, since the Quaffle was coming his way again. There was also a Bludger headed straight at him. The opposing Chaser threw the Quaffle towards a goal and Ron barely escaped the Bludger before almost leaping off his broom and catching the Quaffle.

As Ron tossed the Quaffle back, Neville was screaming, "SHE HAS THE SNITCH! SHE HAS THE SNITCH! GINNY WEASLEY HAS ONCE AGAIN CAUGHT THE GOLDEN SNITCH RIGHT FROM UNDER CAPTAIN CHO CHANG'S NOSE!"

Ron saw his little sister flying around the pitch with the Snitch in her hand, a huge grin adorning her face. The Gryffindors were jumping up and down in the stands, screaming at the top of their lungs, "Weasley is our Queen!"

"Gryffindor wins 180-40!" Neville summed up. "Despite not having Harry Potter leading them today, they still came out on top!"

Ron looked over and saw Cho looking very devastated and angry. _Hah! Serves her right!_ Ron thought with no guilty feelings.

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"_…_I wish you could've seen the look on Chang's face, mate. It was priceless!" Ron was recounting the whole game to his unconscious best friend in the hospital wing. He could've been celebrating the victory in Gryffindor Tower with everyone else, but he just didn't feel like it.

"She also had the nerve to think that you would still be interested in her after what she did to you last year!" Ron added angrily. "Honestly, she thinks she's the hottest thing around here!"

After saying this, Ron began to get confused. Why was he so angry with Cho? She had never done anything to him personally.

_But she hurt Harry last year,_ said Ginny's voice.

Well, yeah, but why would he, Ron Weasley, be so angry that Cho might want to get with Harry again. Shouldn't he let Harry (whenever he woke up) deal with it? Why was he feeling so_…_ so_…_ He couldn't find the right word to describe it.

_Face it, Ronnie. You're jealous. You're jealous that maybe Harry may actually still like Cho and they would get together._

The red-haired boy shook his head. That couldn't be it! He fancied Hermione. Ever since she went with "Vicky" to the Yule Ball in Fourth year. He argued with the Muggle-born girl relentlessly for the past six years. He couldn't fancy Harry!

_So then why are you so angry that Harry might get together with Cho? Why do you think that his smile is beautiful? Why are you visiting Harry every day, even though you know that he's in a coma? Answer me that, Ronnie!_

Ron sighed. He knew he was definitely going nutters. He now kept hearing his little sister's voice in his head. Maybe those brains at the Department of Mysteries _did_ do something to him last year_…_

He looked down at Harry's peaceful face. "You know," he said quietly, "I wouldn't be like this if you hadn't gotten attacked. I wish that you were awake and things could go back to normal—well, normal as it can be with You-Know-Who out there."

And there Ron went sounding selfish again. Hermione was always ragging on him about that—how he never considered anyone's feelings before he spoke or acted.

_Do I fancy Hermione?_ he asked himself. _She gets on my nerves and bugs me to death about studying and homework and other stuff. Would I want to deal with her in a relationship where she would do that stuff even more?_

The sixth year prefect hated this. He hated being confused. Why couldn't life be like chess, where you planned it out move by move? But nooo! He had to be confused about his feelings towards his best friends—one of whom was in between life and death.

The youngest Weasley male sat there at his best mate's bedside until Madam Pompfrey shooed him out, trying to think for once about his feelings. And he still hadn't a bloody clue how he felt.

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"Ron? Ron? Are you in there?"

Ron snapped out of his daze. "Huh?"

He was sitting next to Hermione in the common room, the celebration of Gryffindor's Quidditch victory still going on. When the redhead had entered the common room, immediately all the other Gryffindors crowded around him and gave him their congratulations on winning the game. Now everyone was whopping and hollering and getting drunk on firewhiskey and butterbeer—though no one knew how anyone had snuck them in—and Ron was on the couch with Hermione (who was reading an old book on potions that was as thick as Dobby to look for the potion that was affecting Harry, realizing that she couldn't stop this party and only made sure that fourth years and under weren't drinking the firewhiskey).

Hermione huffed impatiently. "Honestly, Ron, what's wrong with you? You're spacing out all the time. _And _you went straight to the hospital wing after the game instead of coming here to celebrate with the team." The bushy-haired girl had a concerned look on her face. "You know you can tell me anything, Ron, right?"

Ron didn't know what to tell her. _Oh yeah, I can tell you that my sister's in my head somehow and that I'm mad at Cho-bloody-Chang for no reason and that I don't know whether I like you or Harry as more than a friend. That'll go well,_ he thought sarcastically.

"He's my best friend," Ron tried after a bit of silence. "I just miss him—that's all."

"He's my best friend, too, but I haven't been visiting Harry everyday or become this dismal person," Hermione said, raising her eyebrows in an 'You're not telling me the truth' way.

Ron was scared. _What's she going to do now? I should've come up with a better lie!_

Hermione wasn't looking mad, though. On the contrary, she had an understanding expression on her face. "Ron," she said slowly, "I think I know what's going on with you."

"You do?" Ron asked.

Hermione nodded her head. "You fancy Harry."

"What?" Ron tried to keep his voice down so that no one else could hear him—not that anyone was sober enough to care or understand.

"You fancy Harry," she repeated. "It's so obvious. You've been visiting him everyday, you haven't played chess or exploding snap for so long, and you're very protective of him."

"But I don't!" the youngest Weasley male protested. "I don't fancy blokes!"

"I never said you did," Hermione answered calmly. "You just fancy Harry. You still fancy girls—me at some point, even, but that was in fourth year."

"How did you know?" asked a confused Ron.

His fellow prefect gave him a smile. "Because of the way you hated Victor that year and afterwards. But it was only a crush on me—I could tell. If you really liked me like that, you would've asked me out last year."

Ron hung his head. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," Hermione said, putting a hand on her friend's arm. "I wasn't saying this to make you feel bad. I already knew that it wasn't going to happen, so I'm not hurt."

While Ron began to process all that his smart friend had said, Hermione went back to reading her book.

_She's said what I've been telling you all along, Ronnie!_ Ginny's voice taunted in his head.

Ron groaned mentally. _Not you again. Can't you bug someone else?_

_Nope. You're rather easy to rile up._

Ron let out a sigh.

"Did you say something, Ron?" Hermione asked, looking up from her book.

Ron shook his head. "No." _That was a close one. I don't think she'd believe me about hearing voices in my head._

Ginny started it up again in his head. _I know it and Hermione knows it. You. Fancy. Harry. Admit it._

_Fine!_ Ron said to himself. _I do fancy Harry. There, I said it._

_Good,_ Ginny's voice said encouragingly. _Now all you have to do is wait until Harry wakes up in the hospital wing and tell him._

Ron froze. _Uh-uh! Absolutely not! I am not going to go tell Harry that I fancy him! Bloody hell! Do you think I want to lose his friendship?_

Before Ginny could retort, Hermione gasped.

"I found it! I found it!" she repeated excitedly.

"What?" Ron said, putting an end to his mental conversation and turning to face his Muggle-born friend.

"I've found the potion that's affecting Harry!" she answered, her brown eyes lighting up.

* * *

A/N: Once again, I'm sorry if Ron, Hermione, or anyone else is OOC. But I need them that way for this story. If you don't like that, don't read this! Please review! I will accept criticism, but don't flame me! I'm new at this stuff!

-Princess


	4. The Fairy Tale of Sleeping Beauty

**Title:** True Love's First Kiss

**Rating:** PG-13

**Pairing: **RW/HP

**Spoilers:** PS/SS, CoS, PoA, GoF, OotP

**Summary:** _AU 6th year. Draught of Sleeping Beauty: Causes a victim to be put under its curse of eternal sleep until awoken by true love's first kiss. So, who is Harry Potter's true love?_

A/N: Okay, here's the next chapter—where Hermione does what she usually does and figures out the problem, Ron gets depressed because of what she explains to him, and then someone draws on their Gryffindor courage and does what he'd never thought he'd do in a million years.

A/N #2: I apologize for any mistakes I make in telling 'Sleeping Beauty'—this is how I was told the tale.

A/N #3: Well, I finally got this up! It's been a pain these last few weeks, with quizzes, tests, and more quizzes! But, here you guys go!

* * *

Chapter Four: The Fairy Tale of Sleeping Beauty_

* * *

(Last time…)_

_Before Ginny could retort, Hermione gasped._

_"I found it! I found it!" she repeated excitedly._

_"What?" Ron said, putting an end to his mental conversation and turning to face his Muggle-born friend._

* * *

"I've found the potion that's affecting Harry!" she answered, her brown eyes lighting up.

"Well, what is it?" Ron demanded, his eyes widening.

"It's an old potion, hardly used anymore_…_ but it matches Harry's symptoms_…_" Hermione began rambling.

"Hermione, stop rambling! Tell. Me. What. The. Potion. Is. Now!" the impatient red-haired boy growled, not wanting to hear about how rare this potion was.

"It's called the Draught of Sleeping Beauty," the bushy-haired girl answered, ignoring her friend's impatient tone. "It's a unusual potion and is very potent, but isn't fatal or lethal."

"Well, let's go tell Madam Pomfrey so that she can cure Harry!" Ron suggested, leaping out of his seat.

Hermione let out an impatient huff. "Ron, it's not that simple!"

"How can it not be?" Ron asked, irritated. "You've found the potion in that book; we just need Madam Pomfrey to look at it and Harry will wake up!"

"Because there is no antidote!" Hermione snapped.

"What? But_…_ it's in the book_…_ and you said it wasn't fatal_…_ so, it has to have an antidote_…_" Ron was confused and slowly sat back down next to his bookworm friend.

The studious girl let out a heavy sigh. "Ron, in order for you to understand this potion, I'll have to tell you a story."

Ron lifted his eyebrows bewilderedly.

Hermione cleared her throat. "Once upon a time, there was this kingdom ruled by a king and queen, who were both fair and just. They longed to have a child, and finally, they had one—a daughter. Everyone—including the peasants and even the fairies—in the kingdom was invited to share in their joy the day she was born. The baby girl was given many, many gifts.

"Unfortunately, the king and queen had forgotten about the evil witch that wanted to rule over everything and make the people miserable. Well, she found out about the new princess's birth and showed up at the kingdom's gathering. She placed a curse on the girl, saying that on her eighteenth birthday, she would prick her finger on an old fashioned cloth-making machine and would die.

"Fortunately, three magical sisters were able to lesson the curse and turn it into eternal sleep, where the princess would awake by a kiss from her true love. The king and queen, though, didn't want to risk their daughter's life like that, so they let her be raised by the three sisters in the forest until she turned eighteen. Also, all of the cloth-making machines were destroyed to further prevent the curse from coming true. The princess was told who she was on her eighteenth birthday and returned to the castle to become who she really was—which included her marrying the prince from another kingdom. But before she left her life in the forest, the girl met a boy in the forest and fell in love with him.

"But one of the cloth-making machines wasn't destroyed and was set up in the princess's chambers by the evil witch. The princess was told all her life not to touch one of those things, but she decided to satisfy her curiosity and pricked her finger on the needle. She immediately fell into an enchanted sleep.

"The three sisters, to make sure that nothing else bad could happen, put the rest of the princess's kingdom into an enchanted sleep that would only be broken when the princess woke up. Then, they set out to find the princess's true love—which just happened to be her betrothed and being held captive by the evil witch. They freed him, told him that the girl he had met in the forest happened to be the princess he was engaged to and needing him to kiss her to wake her up, and gave him a sword and shield to fight the witch, who had now taken up residence to guard entrance to the princess's castle as a dragon."

Ron's eyes widened even more, if that were even possible.

Hermione continued. "Well, the prince got to the castle, fought the dragon, killed it, and kissed the princess awake. The rest of the kingdom woke up, and everyone lived happily ever after."

"Hermione, this is a nice story, but what does that have to do with this potion you found?" Ron asked.

"Well, this potion was made by a witch who had heard this story. She thought that it was romantic to be awoken by a kiss from your true love, and made this unaffected by anything else used to reverse the effects," Hermione answered.

"You mean some mental witch decided to make this crazy potion and make it antidote and magic proof?" the youngest Weasley male asked incredulously.

"Yes," Hermione sighed.

Ron began piecing it together. "Bloody hell! You mean to tell me that we have to figure out who Harry's in love with and have them _kiss_ him to wake him up?"

"Yes," his Muggle-born friend repeated. "Otherwise Harry will stay asleep forever."

"Oh, this will be easy," Ron scoffed. "Who knows who Harry's bloody in love with!"

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The next day Hermione and Ron went to the hospital wing and told Madam Pomfrey of their discovery. (Correction: it was Hermione who told the stern healer, and it was her discovery. Ron was still shocked by the news he was given the previous night.) The school nurse immediately informed Professor Dumbledore of the news. But other than that, there was still nothing she or the headmaster could do.

Over time, Ron and Hermione started piling together what Harry had told them in recent years about his feelings regarding his friends but weren't able to come up with anything. The only times that Harry had any sort of intense feelings were last year with Cho Chang and the year before when he panicked about Ron being the "thing he would miss most."

"This is bloody impossible!" the red-haired prefect exclaimed one day. "Harry's only fancied one person and he's been over her for months!" He then gave an exasperated sigh. "He'll never wake up now!"

"Don't give up so easily, Ron," Hermione said placatingly. "I'm sure we're overlooking someone."

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Of course, Hermione had already figured out who Harry was in love with. It was so easy to see. Harry had been so hurt in fourth year when Ron and he weren't speaking; Ron was the person he'd had to save in the Second Task_…_ There were even more little incidences that made it obvious. Ron's feelings weren't unrequited.

The job would be to convince oblivious sixteen year old that Harry returned his feelings. The biggest reason he wouldn't believe her was because he did not think that anyone saw past the red hair that marked him as a Weasley.

_Ron doesn't think that anyone sees him as an individual—that they see him as "Arthur and Molly's son" or "Fred and George's younger brother" or even "Harry Potter's best friend." He doesn't see that Harry doesn't love a person because of their identity, but because of what's inside them,_ Hermione mused. _I don't know how I'm going get through his thick head, though._

Maybe her best bet would be to give Ron a few hints and let him figure things out for himself.

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Weeks went by. The second Quidditch game of season came and went: Slytherin versus Hufflepuff. The green and silver clad team pulverized the yellow and black team—230 to 0. Malfoy was even more unbearable than usual—not that Ron and Hermione cared or paid attention all that much.

Soon enough, first term had ended and it was the Christmas holidays. Only Ron and Ginny were staying at Hogwarts out of all the Gryffindors, since their parents were doing something for the Order of the Phoenix—which, of course, Ron and Ginny weren't allowed to know the details. (Also, Ron refused to leave Harry alone in the hospital wing over Christmas—even if said boy was in an enchanted sleep.)

Before she left to go onto the Hogwarts Express with the other students, Hermione told Ron, "Don't give up on Harry; he'll wake up soon."

"How do you know?" the red haired sixteen year old asked incredulously. "Wait! You know who he's in love with, don't you?" The sixth Weasley child pointed his finger accursedly at his female best friend of six years.

"Oh, you'll figure it out," the studious girl said in a mysterious tone. And with that, she hugged her clueless friend and boarded the scarlet train.

_I'll never understand girls—never!_ Ron shook his head.

He then went back to the castle to, predictably, the hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey was nowhere to be seen, so the red-haired boy immediately went to Harry's (a.k.a. the boy he fancied) bedside. There was no change. Harry was still peacefully asleep, unaware of what had been going on with Ron's life in the past couple or so months.

"Mate, I think Hermione's gone off the deep end," he told the unconscious Boy Who Lived. "She thinks that we're close to finding out who the bloody hell you're in love with." He snorted. "Must be a girl thing."

The sixth year prefect unconsciously grabbed Harry's hand and started stroking the top of it. "I wish you could give me a sign." Ron then shook his head. "On the other hand, I don't think I want to know who you fell in love with. This person's probably like bloody Chang." His voice sounded bitter.

"What did she have that I don't?" Ron asked himself.

_You have lots of qualities, Ronnie._

Oh no. The voice was back.

_I thought you were gone for good._

_Nope. I'm in your mind._

Ron groaned. _Why me?_

Ginny's voice ignored him, as usual. _Like I said before, you have a lot of good things about you._

_Like what?_ Ron asked, rolling his eyes.

_You're brave, you're a great Keeper, and you've risked your life for Harry time and time again… There are lots of things, Ronnie._

The sixteen-year-old wizard shook his head. _I've lost it. They might as well ship me off to St. Mungo's._

"What am I going to do?" he asked himself out loud.

_Kiss him,_ Ginny's voice answered.

_WHAT? _Ron shouted in his head.

His little sister's voice was unfazed. _You heard me, kiss him._

_I can't,_ he argued. _Harry doesn't feel that way about me._

_You don't know for sure. What have you got left to lose?_

_Everything,_ Ron answered as though it were obvious.

_Actually you don't—except for knowing he doesn't share your feelings. If you kiss him and he doesn't wake up, he'll never know about it,_ the voice reasoned logically.

_Now you sound like Hermione,_ Ron commented.

_I'll take that as a compliment. Now, are you or aren't you?_

_Will you go away if I do?_

The red-haired prefect thought he heard the voice sigh. _Yes, I will._

Fine, I'll do it.

And with that, Ron stopped the mental conversation. He looked at Harry and bit his lip.

_Come on, Weasley, you're not in Gryffindor for nothing!_

Ron took a deep breath, leaned down over Harry's sleeping form, closed his eyes, and slowly touched his lips to his best mate's.

It was the best two-second kiss of his life. (Granted, it was the only kiss he'd had in his life.) Harry's lips were soft and perfect and warm.

But that kiss couldn't last forever; Ron immediately pulled away, his eyes shooting open and his hand flying to his tingling lips.

The sixth Weasley child looked back at the unconscious form of Harry. He was still asleep. Ron's heart broke.

_I'm not the one he loves,_ he said to himself.

But before he could get up and flee, something amazing happened: Harry stirred. His hands began twitching and there was movement under his eyelids. Finally, those famous green eyes of the Boy Who Lived opened.

Ron was frozen to the spot.

Harry blinked a couple of times, looked around at his surroundings, finally focusing on the person next to him.

"Ron?" he asked. "What's going on?"

* * *

A/N: Once again, apologies for the cliffhanger. And also apologies if anyone's OOC—that's the way they're going to be characterized for this story. If you don't like it that way, just don't read this and don't flame me! See you later!

-Princess


	5. You Love Me?

**Title:** True Love's First Kiss

**Rating:** PG-13

**Pairings:** RW/HP

**Spoilers:** PS/SS, CoS, PoA, GoF, OotP

**Summary:** _AU 6th year. Draught of Sleeping Beauty: Causes a victim to be put under its curse of eternal sleep until awoken by true love's first kiss. So, who is Harry Potter's true love?_

A/N: Ah, the last chapter, where Ron has to come to terms that Harry loves him and vice-versa!

A/N #2: Sorry for the wait, but I've finally got this up. Also, Happy Thanksgiving, everyone! Hope you guys get your fill of turkey, or whatever you guys eat at Thanksgiving dinner!

A/N #3: Okay, everyone, this is the last chapter for this story. I've had a lot of fun writing it, but now it needs to end—so here it goes!

* * *

Chapter Five: You Love Me?_

* * *

(Last time…)_

_Harry blinked a couple of times, looked around at his surroundings, finally focusing on the person next to him._

_"Ron?" he asked. "What's going on?"_

* * *

Ron couldn't believe this. Harry was awake after three months of enchanted sleep. Most importantly, he, Ron Weasley, was the person that Harry loved. To say the least, this was mind-boggling to the youngest Weasley male.

"Ron? Hello? Are you in there?"

Harry's voice brought the red-haired boy out of his thoughts. "Uh, Ron, what are you doing here and why am I in the hospital wing?"

"What's the last thing you remember, Harry?" Ron asked.

Harry's screwed up in remembrance. "Well, Malfoy stuck me with that needle of blue stuff_…_"

"WHAT? MALFOY WAS THE ONE WHO DID THIS TO YOU? WHY THAT DAMNED, LOW-DOWN, SLIMY FERRET!" Ron's eyes narrowed in anger, forgetting about what had just happened five minutes ago.

"Did what?" asked a confused Harry Potter.

Before Ron could answer, Madam Pomfrey strode into the room and gasped. "Mr. Potter, you're awake!"

That immediately reminded Ron of what he did. His eyes began to widen and his face began to burn—not that the other two people noticed this, for Madam Pomfrey was casting spell after spell on a thoroughly bewildered Boy Who Lived.

The school Healer then shooed the red-haired boy out so that she could finish her examination of Harry.

Lost in thought, Ron didn't put up a fight with the stern woman and slowly began to make his way back to Gryffindor Tower.

_No way,_ he said in his head. _How can _I _be the person Harry loves?_

_I told you, Ronnie,_ taunted Ginny's voice.

The sixth Weasley child's head snapped up. _Hey! You said you would leave if I kissed him!_

_I had my fingers crossed._

Ron slapped his forehead.

_Besides,_ the voice continued, _I'm in your mind. I can't go away._

Ron let out a groan of frustration. _Why couldn't I have gotten a nice person in my head that left me alone?_

Ginny snickered. _You needed my help, Ronnie. At this rate, you were going to never figure out that you were in love with Harry._

By this time, Ron had reached the portrait of the Fat Lady. He gave her the password and stepped inside to the gold and red clad common room.

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Ginny (the real one—not the one in Ron's head) was sitting on the couch, reading _Witch Weekly_. She suddenly looked up and saw her older brother with an unreadable look on his face.

"Hey, Ron, what's with you?" she asked as she put the magazine down.

"Harry's awake," he croaked out.

"Really? That's fantastic!" Ginny broke out into a huge grin, but then stopped after seeing that Ron hadn't changed expressions. "Okay, you've been visiting Harry daily, and when he finally wakes up you're not happy. Spill."

Ron plopped himself down on the couch next to her. "I'm just so confused," he finally said after a minute.

"About what?" the fifteen year old girl persisted.

(At the Burrow before going to Hogwarts, Ron and Ginny had been the best of friends; they did everything together—just like Fred and George. They went to the other with their secrets and always got each other out of trouble with their mother. When Ron began his first year, that closeness began to go away. Harry and Hermione had seemed to replace Ginny in his life, and she was just now the "annoying little sister". She hadn't taken it well and began to distance herself from her brother to cover up her hurt feelings.)

"Well, a few weeks ago, after the Quidditch match_…_" And Ron explained everything that had happened—his feelings of jealousy towards Cho, Hermione's revelation, his feelings of bewilderment and helplessness, and what had just happened in the hospital wing.

Ginny sat there, listening to her brother pour out his heart—just like he used to do when they were younger—and patting him on the arm to encourage him whenever he paused.

Finally, Ron got everything out. He heaved a huge sigh and slumped in his seat.

"Ron," Ginny began, "what you've just told me is that basically you're in love with Harry and that he's in love with you. You need to go back in there and tell him that."

"But I thought that you liked him," Ron protested.

Ginny smiled and shook her head. "I only fancied him, and last year I got over him. He was just a fairy tale for me. You know him inside and out; you're his best friend. And you can be more than that because obviously, according to that potion, you're Harry's true love."

"Yeah," Ron agreed.

"Just talk to him," she encouraged. "Tell him how you feel. You'll regret it if you don't."

Ron nodded his head and stood up. "You're right, Ginny, I will." With that he practically ran out of the common room to the hospital wing.

Once again, Ginny was alone in the common room. "Well, it was nice to see a bit of the old Ron—even just for a little while," she said out loud as she picked up her magazine and turned to the page where she left off.

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Ron was practically running back to the white-walled hospital wing. Soon enough, he got there, panting and flushed. He looked inside to see if Madam Pomfrey was still checking on Harry, but there was no sign of her.

"Phew!" Ron said to himself as he entered and walked towards Harry's bed.

Sure enough, Harry was still there, eating a couple of the sweets that others had left him during his three-month sleep. He looked up and saw that his best friend was standing next to his bed. "Hey there! Think you can help me eat all this candy?"

Ron sat down in the chair next to Harry's bed. "Harry, we need to talk."

The Boy Who Lived's eyebrows furrowed. "What's wrong?"

Ron evaded the question and asked, "Did Madam Pomfrey tell you what happened?"

Harry blinked. "A little bit. She said that I was in an enchanted sleep from a potion. And you're avoiding the question."

Ron bit his lip. "You said that Malfoy injected you with some stuff, right?"

Harry nodded.

"Well, that stuff was Draught of Sleeping Beauty. Whoever gets that stuff in their body goes into this deep sleep and won't wake up until the person they love kisses them on the lips." Ron ended this by blushing.

Harry's eyes widened. "You_…_ you mean that I_…_ and you were here when I woke up_…_ so that means that_… _Oh, Merlin."

"Yeah," Ron answered, "you're in love with me."

Harry began to look down. "I didn't think you knew. I thought I had hidden it well."

Now it was Ron's turn to be surprised. "What?"

"Well," Harry said, "I've fancied you since this summer. I thought you figured it out."

Ron shook his head and said, "No. Hermione helped me figure out that I liked you more than just a friend. Then I had this weird notion to kiss you today." (He decided not to bring up the voice in his head.) " I didn't think you'd feel that way towards me."

"You fancy me?" Harry asked, finally looking Ron in the face.

"I think I feel more than that for you, Harry," Ron answered, moving himself closer to Harry by sitting on the bed.

"What does that mean?" Harry asked, his voice getting breathier as Ron scooted closer to him.

"I don't know yet," Ron answered honestly. He then did something bold: he put his hand up and stroked Harry's face.

"Ron, I don't want to lose our friendship," Harry whispered; fear was beginning to creep in the emerald eyes that Ron would willingly lose himself in.

"Well, unless you either declare your allegiance to You-Know-Who or say that you're marrying Malfoy, you'll never lose my friendship," Ron replied, bringing himself closer to Harry until there was less than an inch between their faces.

They stayed like that for a minute, and Ron, who was beginning to feel impatient, finally closed the gap between them.

It was paradise. Harry was already kissing him back, closing his eyes at the same time. Ron put his other hand on Harry's cheek and pressed his lips harder.

_Oh…_

This was even better than the first kiss.

Eventually, lack of air was becoming a problem for the two boys and they broke the kiss.

Harry immediately snapped open his eyes and was putting his hand to his lips.

"Harry," Ron said in between breaths, "I love you. I want to snog you like this all the time. I don't think I can even go back to being 'just friends.'"

Harry's response was practically jumping on the redheaded boy and giving him the snogging of a lifetime.

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_Dear Mr. Malfoy,_

_We have received word that you have stolen a potion and used it in a harmful way against another student, intending to kill him. After reviewing your actions, we have decided to expel you from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry._

_We hope you have a pleasant day._

_Sincerely,_

_Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, Headmaster_

_Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress_

Draco Malfoy finished reading the letter at Malfoy Manor.

"Damn!" he swore. "It was supposed to kill Potter! Stupid Goyle; must've picked the wrong one!"

* * *

The end!

A/N: Sorry if it's so short, but I had to wrap things up! Once again, I apologize if there is any OOCness—but it was needed for this story. And also, I'm apologizing about the romance part. This is my first romantic story, so I'm new at this stuff. Please don't get mad at me about it!

And another thing, when you guys review, please don't flame me! I don't want to hear from people who only put down every aspect ofmy story. I don't mind constructive criticism, though.

Well, I'm going to have another story coming up (it's also AU) about Harry & Fleur Delacour. It's going to take place in sixth and seventh year. (But Ron and Hermione are going to be different in this one—and won't be so important. I thought I'd warn everyone who likes their characters that they won't be like they are here.)

Until the next story!

-Princess


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